Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame, With conquering limbs astride from land to land; Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name MOTHER OF EXILES. From her beacon-hand Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
I think of the lines penned by Shelley in his sonnet, "Ozymandias":
(...) Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert... near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal these words appear: 'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings; Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!' Nothing beside remains. (...)
Consideration for your fellow man Would not hurt anybody, it sure fits in with my plan Over the border, there lies the promised land Where everything comes easy, you just hold out your hand
Keep your suspicions, I've seen that look before But I ain't done nothing wrong now, is that such a suprise But I've got a sister who'd be willing to oblige She will do anything now to help me get to the outside
So don't tell anybody what I wanna do If they find out you know that they'll never let me through, because
It's no fun being an illegal alien, I tell ya It's no fun being an illegal alien, and it's getting me down It's no fun being an illegal alien, no no no no no It's no fun being an illegal alien, yeah yeah yeah
I prefer Lady Liberty. How 'bout you?
ReplyDeleteNot like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
MOTHER OF EXILES. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
That poem keeps coming back to me.
ReplyDeleteAnd that Neil Diamond song.
I think of the lines penned by Shelley in his sonnet, "Ozymandias":
ReplyDelete(...) Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert... near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal these words appear:
'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings;
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. (...)
This, I am sure, will be Trump's only legacy.
Consideration for your fellow man
ReplyDeleteWould not hurt anybody, it sure fits in with my plan
Over the border, there lies the promised land
Where everything comes easy, you just hold out your hand
Keep your suspicions, I've seen that look before
But I ain't done nothing wrong now, is that such a suprise
But I've got a sister who'd be willing to oblige
She will do anything now to help me get to the outside
So don't tell anybody what I wanna do
If they find out you know that they'll never let me through, because
It's no fun being an illegal alien, I tell ya
It's no fun being an illegal alien, and it's getting me down
It's no fun being an illegal alien, no no no no no
It's no fun being an illegal alien, yeah yeah yeah